Chapter Text
The pinnacle of innocence.
A blank slate waiting to be tainted.
The fool of this journey, taking form of a tragedy.
Two plain white paper cups sit in the middle of a rugged picnic bench, their plastic lids letting out small puffs of steam as the bitter beverage that they keep contained allows its warmth to escape into the air. Condensation graces the the rims of the cups, only to trickle down, creating paths in which the droplets wander until they reach the benches surface thus marking the end of their journey.
This fool has a name.
His name is Ken Kaneki.
Perched on one side of the picnic bench is a boy, with pale skin that is such a contrast to his dark locks that skim across his forehead so neatly. His smokey grey eyes, focused intently on the latest book he has decided to find himself enthralled in recently. The slight crease in his brow indicates the strength of his conviction. The page quivering under his intense gaze as he rips through the black, printed words laid out in front of him in an attempt to finish the page, allowing him to then claim a sip of his rich reward.
Once the page is complete, his eyes dart forwards, targeting the cup standing proudly before him; that is until his eyes betray him and settle on the person sat across from him on the bench.
You.
What are you to the fool?
He freezes in an instant as he locks onto your blissfully, unaware form. Your (e/c) orbs fixed on the transcription placed in front of you as you bite your bottom lip in sweet anticipation of the next line of text. Your fingers digging into the cover of the tattered book within your grasp, channeling your suppressed excitement for what is to come in the story unfolding in the palm of your hand.
You suddenly become aware of the prying eyes that embrace your form; your eyes lift up to meet the perpetrators stare. You notice his grey orbs light up with joy as you connect with his line of sight, however, it doesn't take long for a string of apologies to roll off his tongue. A bashful blush sweeps across his pale complexion accompanied by a small sheepish smile tugging at his lips.
You wish time would slow down in moments such as this, unfortunately, there never seems to be enough when you truly desire it.
What will you become?